


the meaning of you

by ensoleille



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life, please check each chapter for specific content/ratings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-20 16:04:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ensoleille/pseuds/ensoleille
Summary: original,adj.: Of course this plot’s been done before, but the details make it new and ours.Bits and pieces of Donghyuck’s and Mark’s lives, unattached, flowing. A drabble series based on The Lover’s Dictionary.





	the meaning of you

**Author's Note:**

> based on [@loversdiction](http://twitter.com/loversdiction) on twitter (there’s also a book!) - although there’s no real narrative to mine. ideally everything would all take place in the same universe but more likely than not they’re all in their own little worlds. i don’t necessarily want to have a story, i just want to take this where the wind blows. ~~also i’m a slice of life whore, what is a plot? idk her~~
> 
> **rating may go up in the future. please check each chapter for its specific word count, content, and rating.** hyperlinks on each chapter's associated word (in the blockquotes) lead to the original tweet.
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3 [twt](http://twitter.com/lapetiteourse)

 

 

 

 

> [original, _adj._](https://twitter.com/loversdiction/status/1041459519811973122): Of course this plot’s been done before, but the details make it new and ours.
> 
>  
> 
> _694 words, fluff, rated g_.

 

 

 

 

Donghyuck thinks it’s clichéd. 

It’s clichéd, the way Mark moves into the house next to the Lee’s in his last year of middle school. Donghyuck is too busy with a popsicle in his mouth and sweat making fabric stick to his skin, but his mom drags him out to be polite anyway. Mark calls himself Canadian, stilted Korean falling gently from his lips in a way that makes the word _cute_ ring through Donghyuck’s head.

He runs back into the house before his mom can stop him, only to reemerge with another popsicle. “For you,” in English.

“Thank you,” in Korean, and a smile that makes Donghyuck forget about the heat, already melting the popsicle in Mark’s hand. “My Korean name is Minhyung, but everyone calls me Mark.”

“I’m Donghyuck, but all my friends call me Hyuck.”

Their eyes meet, and there’s a sparkle in the way Mark looks at him. “Since you gave me a popsicle, can I call you Hyuck, too?”

Donghyuck feels the corners of his mouth turn up into a grin, and he thinks he must be sparkling, too. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

 

 

It’s clichéd, the way he spends too much time in Mark’s bedroom, and Mark spends too much time in his. Mark’s high school is a district away, but they still share schoolwork, and snacks, and a sidewalk home.

Their mothers joke that they should trade sons, since they all have the same last name anyway. Donghyuck says no one will believe Mark’s mom birthed someone so tan, but Mark misses the point and calls his skin beautiful.

Donghyuck dreams of nothing but sunshine on his skin that night.

 

 

It’s clichéd, the way Jeno and Jaemin ask why he doesn’t hang out with them as much anymore. They’ve got pizza and Mario Kart and sleeping bags and all the time in the world for questions.

“You’re _in my house_ ,” Donghyuck retorts.

“For the first time in _two months_ ,” Jaemin counters. His mouth is full of pepperoni, but Donghyuck has known him too long and understands his garbled speech perfectly. “Your mom says you’re always with your new neighbor Mark now.”

Donghyuck veers off track and smashes his kart into the side of Jaemin’s. Jeno stifles a giggle into his pillow.

“What the _heck_ , you little—!”

But it’s for naught, because Jaemin drops one too many well-timed bananas and crosses the finish line first, triumphant and gloating. Jeno beats Jaemin in return, and then it’s Donghyuck’s turn to laugh until Jeno sweeps him too, and they unanimously decide Jeno is Mario Kart King for the week.

They settle into quiet and Donghyuck is counting sheep when the question leaves Jeno and hangs in the air. He's sure Jaemin is listening, too.

“Mark must be special, huh?”

Donghyuck doesn't reply, but he knows they don't need him to. The room swallows every answer Donghyuck doesn't give, every question he wishes he had the heart to ask.

_But am I special for him, too?_

 

 

It’s _definitely_ clichéd, the way Donghyuck is the first to lean in, palms hot and clammy and clenched by his sides. All the leaves in the yard have fallen, but Donghyuck’s heart is still caught in his throat—hanging, breathless.

Then he pulls away, ready to run from his terrible decisions, until Mark pulls him back in by the waist, hands sure and steady. Donghyuck feels his lips on Mark’s this time, meant to fit together since the beginning.

His heart settles back into his chest, and the world feels alright again.

 

 

Donghyuck thinks it’s clichéd.

He wonders if he’s in someone else's teenage fever dream, about to wake up and lose his role as the lead of a romantic comedy that wasn’t his to play. He's only seen this in books, in movies, in things that aren't _real_.

But then he threads his fingers through Mark’s, and the warmth and familiarity of their hands in each other’s is everything to remind Donghyuck that this story belongs to him.

Mark turns to him and smiles, that same sparkle still in his eyes. Somewhere, Donghyuck knows a page is turning.

It's clichéd, but it's his. And that's enough.

 

 

 

 


End file.
